The All Hallows Market: A Curious Day Among the Gravestones

It’s spooky season! So naturally, I headed to the graveyard for a market day.

Browsing a curious collection of curios, crystals, preserved specimens and skulls, I wandered along winding paths lined with vendors offering their strange wares among the gravestones. It may seem odd to set up a market in a cemetery, or even a bit disrespectful to disturb the peace of the dead with the living, but I like to think they rather enjoy their visitors. Besides, everyone was respectful of the graves, staying on the paths as they browsed.

Funds from the vendor fees go straight towards the preservation of Mount Bethel Cemetery, the oldest burial ground in continual use in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Dating back to 1730, it is the final resting place of more than ten thousand of the borough’s former residents, including many significant figures from its rich history. Some of its oldest gravestones date back to the eighteenth century, including a legible marker from 1758 belonging to William Campbell, a trapper said to have carved his own headstone after contracting rabies from his dog. There’s plenty of history among these gravestones, if you know where to look.

The event, called The All Hallows Market, was organised by the Curiosity Shop of Columbia, known for its rather particular selection of shop pieces, ranging from taxidermied bats to antiques. Naturally, a market organised by a shop like that was never going to be your typical Saturday shopping trip.

And thank goodness for that.

The vendors offered an eclectic assortment of wares inspired by Victorian fashion, steampunk, pagan traditions and modern Gothic aesthetics. There were curiosities for collectors, treasures for the unusual-minded and plenty of things that wouldn’t look out of place in a witch’s parlour or a Victorian naturalist’s study. It was the sort of gathering where a skull could be a decorative object, a preserved specimen could be a conversation starter, and nobody would bat an eye at either.

For anyone who loves Halloween, it was a little slice of seasonal heaven.

The day itself seemed determined to cooperate. The weather was warm, but there was a distinct scent of autumn in the air. The leaves on the nearby trees had only just begun to change colour, offering the first hints of the season to come. It was that lovely in-between moment when summer hasn’t quite let go, but autumn is already waiting in the wings.

I’d started the day at one of my favourite coffee shops, where a friend joined me before we headed over to the cemetery. We were greeted by a parade of hearses, which felt like an entirely appropriate arrival for an event of this particular character. Nothing says spooky season quite like a procession of vehicles traditionally associated with the dearly departed.

One of the hearses was particularly worth investigating. Peering inside, you could see old medical equipment, adding another layer of macabre history to an already wonderfully peculiar afternoon. It was the sort of thing that made you wonder about the stories behind the objects, and perhaps whether you really wanted to know all of them.

Then there was the vendor selling an actual skeleton.

Now, dear reader, I have questions. Far too many questions. Where does one even acquire an entire skeleton for resale? What sort of paperwork might be involved? And perhaps most importantly, how does one decide that a skeleton is precisely what one’s home is missing?

I didn’t ask, but I certainly thought about it.

Not everything was quite so existentially questionable. One of my favourite booths sold steampunk journals, each with its own distinctive character. I have a particular fondness for objects that feel as though they belong to another era, or perhaps to a fictional world just waiting to be discovered. A journal is already an invitation to adventure, but a particularly unusual one practically begs you to fill its pages with something interesting.

Another vendor was selling wonderfully amusing earrings, which presented an entirely different sort of dilemma. There was a cute little ghost reading a book, an accessory that felt almost suspiciously tailored to my interests. Then there were the toe bones of a raccoon.

Yes, dear reader. Raccoon toe bones.

There is a very particular sort of shopping decision that can only happen at a market like this. Do you choose the adorable ghost engrossed in literature, or do you embrace the sheer absurdity of wearing a raccoon’s toe bones as jewellery? Both have their merits. Both would make excellent conversation starters. And both are considerably more interesting than another pair of ordinary earrings.

I debated the options, because of course I did. Sometimes the hardest part of an adventure is deciding which peculiar little treasure deserves to come home with you.

There was even a pop-up tattoo booth for anyone feeling particularly adventurous. I considered the idea in the abstract, as one does when faced with an opportunity to do something unusual. But a spontaneous tattoo is a rather more permanent souvenir than most of the things one finds at a market, and I’m not quite ready to add that particular experience to my bucket list. If I ever do, I suspect it will require a little more thought than a spur-of-the-moment decision among the gravestones.

In the end, I left empty-handed.

Not because I wasn’t interested. Quite the opposite. There were plenty of things I could have happily brought home, from the steampunk journals to the ghost earrings and, purely for the conversation it would generate, perhaps even the raccoon toe bones.

But I didn’t need to own any of them to enjoy them. The afternoon had given me plenty to take home already: the sight of hearses lining the entrance, the wonderfully strange assortment of vendors, the questions raised by an entire skeleton for sale, and the memory of debating jewellery made from the toes of a raccoon.

Sometimes the best souvenir is the story you get to tell afterwards.

And that’s part of what I love about these sorts of adventures. You don’t have to travel far, spend a fortune or even come home with anything in your shopping bag to have a worthwhile afternoon. Sometimes all you need is a nearby event, a friend who is willing to indulge your interests, and a willingness to follow your curiosity somewhere a little unusual.

A market in a cemetery might not be everyone’s idea of a perfect autumn outing. But between the strange treasures, the hearses, the changing leaves and the history beneath our feet, it was exactly the sort of wonderfully peculiar adventure that makes life a little more interesting.

Besides, if the dead really are watching, I hope they appreciated the company.

Happy spooky season, dear reader. May your autumn be filled with curious places, unexpected adventures and just the right amount of the macabre.

A Trip Back in Time: Tubing at Sickman’s Mill

Ah, summer. What springs to mind when we think of those blazing hot days and long evenings? Cookouts and water games, people gathered round, laughing gaily as dogs drift in and among the crowd, children playing lawn games? The reality is that, sadly, summer is spent far too often on our phones. Even when out and about, they are an ever-present distraction. Speaking with strangers is practically taboo, lest you disrupt their very important text conversation or latest social media doom-scrolling venture. There are few sanctuaries of the bygone eras where summer meant a blissful abandonment of the world for nature and all her bountiful glory.

It was one such sanctuary that I happened upon on a summer morning—not entirely by accident, as I had made plans to go—but I was surprised to discover that Sickman’s Mill was such a place. Nestled in the southern part of Lancaster County, it doesn’t have the best reception, and lacking any Wi-Fi, one is forced, as their sign proudly declares, to pretend it’s 1969 and talk to other people. I found the bartenders friendly and hospitable, eager to make me feel welcome to a party I didn’t know I’d been invited to as I awaited my friend Kayla’s arrival. They assured me that despite the weather forecast for potential showers, I would still be able to participate in the not-quite-forgotten summer tradition of tubing down a river.

Almost as soon as there were rubber inner tubes leftover from tires, there have been people putting tubs in rivers and floating down them. What could be a more relaxing way to beat the summer heat? After a trip down the Pequea Creek, I’m not sure I can answer that question. It was the perfect panacea for the blistering heat of the season.

The rain from the night before had raised the creek’s levels and left the morning quite comfortable. The clouds that had threatened thunderstorms gave way to beautiful blue skies, allowing dappled rays of sunlight to stream down through the trees. The crowds had not yet arrived, leaving the creek mostly to ourselves to enjoy the sounds of nature all around us. Occasionally, we were treated to faster-moving sections as the water flowed rapidly over a series of rocks. The only main concern was the occasional felled tree that created unexpected obstacles, but aside from those minor disruptions, it was a beautifully relaxing trip.

The entire route took us about an hour to complete, as the creek was moving more rapidly that morning due to the recent rainfall. It can take up to two hours when the water is slower. We were directed by a polite young man to get out of our tubes and climb the convenient stairs to await a bus that would transport us back to the mill. We didn’t need to wait long before it came lumbering up the lane, and after another group disembarked from the creek to board, we were on our way. It was a short but delightful ride through the countryside.

The old mill itself was not open for exploration, but they more than made up for it with the bar affectionately named Jimmy’s Place after the family’s dog. Naturally, Kayla and I tried the Jimmy Juice—all four flavors. She had the Pineapple and Cranberry, whereas I enjoyed an Orange and a Ginger. Our favorites were the Pineapple and the Ginger, and we were able to take a four-pack home to share. For food, we went only a few feet away from the bar to Mama T’s. I learned the name is a bit of a joke, as Mama T is by all accounts a terrible cook. Don’t worry—the food was quite delicious and includes vegetarian options. Prices ranged from $5 for a slice of sourdough pizza to the more expensive Mama T Burger at $14. The portion sizes were as generous as the people serving us.

When we returned to the mill, we were surprised to see that the sleepy bar had transformed into an impromptu party. Dogs ran among the people and splashed into the creek with their owners. Some had taken chairs to sit directly in the creek while sipping on the infamous Jimmy Juice, a vodka-based cocktail. Children and adults played lawn games together, and everywhere I looked, people were actually talking to each other instead of scrolling on their phones. It felt as if I had indeed been transported back to 1969. I even had the distinct pleasure of meeting Mama T, who had just landed from Ireland.

It would seem that while the mill has taken on many purposes in its 250-plus years of existence, it remains timeless. One certainly feels as if time simply melts away. Hours and minutes blend together as the party stretches into the afternoon. You forget to check the time, and text messages go unanswered—if they even get through the spotty reception. It is a place to forget the modern world and embrace the echoes of summers past. Though I wouldn’t have thought it all that different from a lazy river at an amusement park, there was something special about tubing down a real river in the middle of the woods. It may be a relic of an era now gone, but it remains a time-honored tradition. As long as there are tubes and rivers, people will continue to float down them.

How can you go tubing?

Luckily, the United States is dotted with rivers, and if nothing else, you can probably find one nearby to float down—provided you have a tube. It’s recommended to bring a friend along and park your cars in two different places unless you find a spot like Sickman’s Mill where you can rent a tube and catch a bus ride back. It’s a bit more adventurous doing it yourself. Though I must confess, as someone with a poor sense of direction, I’d likely miss the designated pickup spot, drift miles downriver, and end up hopelessly lost.

If you don’t want to go the DIY route, finding a place like Sickman’s is usually as simple as Googling “water tubing.” There are plenty of places that offer this kind of summer activity. I can’t promise they’ll all have the same family cookout atmosphere, but the river experience will be similar. I do think there’s something magical about finding a place where cell service isn’t great and Wi-Fi isn’t available. It encourages people to put their phones away and genuinely engage with each other.

Completed: August 2024
Cost: $25 for tubing ($40 additional for drinks and food)
Miles from home: 20
Potentially time warped: 55 years into the past

Be sure to check out my other adventures on my Bucket List and if you’re looking to travel back in time again with me, check out my Reverse Bucket List.

Livin’ In an Amish Paradise: Hometown Pride

It can be quite easy to forget that wherever you live, someone dreams of visiting. Maybe not your particular town or neighborhood, but certainly places nearby. I once worked with a young woman whose dream was to move to South Dakota much to my bewilderment and last time I spoke with her, she was absolutely loving her decision. I used to dream of going to the west to see the Rocky Mountains or the west coast. Others apparently dream of coming to my part of the country to see the Amish. 

I remember when I was seeking inspiration for my bucket list and I stumbled across one that included visiting Lancaster County. I knew growing up that I lived in a tourist destination and that people came here, but it wasn’t until I saw it on someone’s bucket list that it truly sunk in that the place I was constantly trying to escape from, other people wanted to come to and it was a big deal to do so. 

I started exploring what made Lancaster so unique and special that made it a destination worthy of someone’s list. What I discovered is that it actually is a special place with its own subculture and quirks that make it so charming to outsiders. I began to appreciate what was in front of me, enjoying the rolling farmlands near my house, seeing beauty in the corn and wheat fields, savoring the seasonal changes and stopping to admire the farm animals frolicing in their pens. I learned the ubiquitous fruit stands and farmers markets scattered throughout the county were rare treats elsewhere. It’s home to America’s Coolest Small Town 2016, Lititz, and recently two of America’s best buffets, Shady Maple and Miller’s Smorgasbord. 

Is it still Coolest Small Town in America? Maybe, maybe not – but it is pretty awesome.

In addition to all things Amish, we boast a rich art scene with its many art galleries and Lancaster’s School of the Arts. We’re home to the Fulton Theater as well as Sight & Sound and American Music Theater. We still preserve many of the folk arts here which can be found at many shops in the tourist areas. However, if you want a more hands-on experience, there are tons of workshops in the area through PA’s Artisans Guild which helps keep these crafts going. 

We have street fairs throughout the fall as well as craft fairs in the spring and late summer. We host farms shows and even have tractor square dancing! Although, don’t ask me about it, I had no idea that was a thing until my early 30s. 

The truth is, I am now grateful to be living here whereas before I was always looking to escape to far flung places instead of realizing what I had in my own backyard. It would be easy to dismiss my small town as boring and “uninteresting”, looking to the bigger cities or tropical islands of the caribbean. I can make every day moments bucket list worthy. Instead of being annoyed when I am driving and I come across a farmer helping his flock across the road, I take the time to savor what I’m seeing. It’s actually quite pastoral and idyllic to watch. I get excited when I hear the tell-tale clop of hooves on the road signaling the approach of a horse and buggy. I take time to stop at the stalls along the road rather than continuing to drive on. 

Sheep! I love seeing the little lambs in the spring time.

My everyday life is another person’s vacation. Sure it’s easy when you’re on a vacation to enjoy the mundane as extraordinary. On a vacation you aren’t worried about the everyday stresses of life like getting to work on time, picking up the groceries, rushing home to the wife and kids, so lingering at a farmer’s market is a luxury the tourists have that I don’t have. When you’re on vacation, you aren’t quite as pressed for time, you can linger and savor what you’re experiencing. Your worries take a backseat to the present moment. Without the worry of time and everyday responsibilities, it’s easy to mistake a foreign place as better than our own homes. I think that’s why some people will regret moving to a place they loved to vacation in, because the reality of everyday life doesn’t match the rosy picture they had as a tourist. We can apply the opposite approach to our homes, realizing that we can recreate those feelings for ourselves at home with the right approach. 

How can you cultivate hometown pride?

The first is to take the message of this post to heart. Somebody wants to come to your area and visit and that someone is willing to pay money, perhaps not an insignificant amount to do it. It’s so easy to miss the life that’s in front of us when we spend our lives looking ahead to the future, to excitement and adventure, scrolling on our phones while life passes us by. Your adventure is right out your front door! 

The trick is to stop taking your surroundings for granted, to ground yourself in the moment and be mindful about your sensory experience. Instead of rushing into the farmer’s stand grabbing my groceries and leaving as quickly as possible. I will try and make time to pursue the produce, carefully examine the baked goods and give into temptation with the local honey. Last time, I even purchased a cool meadow mint tea in a glass bottle. For those of you not in the know, Lancaster has a unique meadow mint tea that the Amish make and it is a summer treat for the locals. Rather than drinking it down quickly, I slowly sipped it, letting it dance upon my tongue just like I used to do as a child. Did I still have to return back to my housework and garden? Yes, but for about ten minutes, I let all the stress melt into the background and took in my hometown with an outsider’s eyes.

Completed: Around 2017

Miles from home: 0

Cost: Free 

Stables near my home, I pass it almost every week. I finally took the time to pull over an appreciate the sight.